


Behind the Lines

by Daegaer



Category: Discworld - Terry Pratchett, Fix Bay'nets - George Manville Fenn
Genre: Class Differences, Crossover, Humor, M/M, Military Ranks, Soldiers, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-03-06
Updated: 2004-03-06
Packaged: 2019-08-09 00:40:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16439819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daegaer/pseuds/Daegaer
Summary: Perks wonders about some strange soldiers she's come across.





	Behind the Lines

Polly kept her eyes on the fire, feeling it was bad manners to stare. She poked at the contents of the pot and wondered if this rupert liked scubbo as much as Lieutenant Blouse had. She flicked a glance up at the strangely uniformed soldiers and quickly looked back down. The shorter one had finished peeling the potatoes and was now leaning over, whispering to his rupert. Whispering men were never up to any good in Polly's experience. She sliced the peeled potatoes into the pot, frowning. She was frowning mostly because these were the last potatoes and there didn't seem to be any farms left to steal more from. The rest of the frown was because she was really very sure she hadn't seen the other soldiers holding hands.

There was no sound behind her, but she still knew that Maladicta had come back. Polly shifted over so that the vampire could share her seat on the log.

'Have you ever heard of this _England_ place?' she murmured, not looking up in case the men paid attention. Or in case she saw if they were really holding hands or not.

'No,' Maladicta said. 'And they must think we're stupid if we don't know what an Ankh-Morpork accent sounds like.' She looked over at the other side of the fire and said loudly, 'What part of Ankh-Morpork did you say you were from, Gedge?'

The skinny little private dragged his attention away from his rupert long enough to reply.

'I tole you, miss - sorry, Corporal, I ain't from yer Ankh-Morpork place, I'm from Lunnun.'

'Huh,' Maladicta said, and rummaged in her pack for coffee. 'Give me a hand, Sergeant Perks, would you?' She made a show of inspecting her coffee bean grinder, her head close to Polly's. 'I think they're spies,' she muttered.

'Not very good spies, claiming to come from imaginary places and having real accents,' Polly said. 'And the rupert sounds like Blouse. Is he meant to be a spy for us?'

'Oh, they all sound like that,' Maladicta said. 'Maybe they're scouts for Ankh-Morpork. Or deserters. Whatever they are, I don't trust them. Soldiers off by themselves get unscrupulous and dangerous.'

'We're off by ourselves,' Polly said.

'And look how paranoid and suspicious we've got. Those two are probably biding their time, thinking they've got a couple of timid little girls on their hands. I'll keep watch tonight - if either of them tries _anything_ , they're both dead men.'

'I'm not so sure we have to worry about that sort of thing,' Polly said, surreptitiously pointing across the fire. Gedge was leaning right against Bracy now, resting his head on the rupert's shoulder. Bracy meanwhile was _probably_ saying something comforting, given his tone of voice, but was also _definitely_ stroking Gedge's hair. Polly and Maladicta stared wide-eyed.

'Doesn't the way they act seem rather queer to you?' Polly said.

'Well, yes,' Maladicta muttered, 'but I was trying to think of a different way to phrase it.'


End file.
